


airborne

by wheetato (capaldi)



Category: Gugudan (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 20:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10861485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capaldi/pseuds/wheetato
Summary: Nayoung pries the folder open. In bold text it reads,Kim Nayoung, transfer student.Oh hell no.





	1. The Good Samaritan

**Author's Note:**

> the ggd superpowers au that i'm v excited to write and have no idea where it's going

 

She wakes to the sound of her phone chewing her ears off.

Well not really wakes so much as snaps her eyes open. She doesn’t actually need to sleep, but she does enjoy closing her eyes.

There’s a stream of notifications one after another of _where are you_ and _get your ass down here_ and Nayoung just sighs, tossing the phone towards the edge of the bed and turning to face the other way.

It's a routine she's so, so tired of.

 

\--

 

It’s the third time she’s dozed off -- she knows because Mina kicks her chair all three times. _Pay attention,_ she hisses, and really, why is she even in this class to begin with ( _it’s not my fault you had to repeat calculus twice,_ Mina deadpans). Sejeong just flashes her a semi apologetic smile.

She tries not to nod off to the rhythmic stabs of chalk against the blackboard and the professor’s droning speech pattern. But in just minutes, her head is already drooping and the chalk etchings on the board were starting to blur together. It reminds her of a chalk outline, Sejeong notes idly.

Instantly, she’s taken back to the events of last night.

It’s the second crime scene this week, where she slipped out after midnight to canvas. Mina’s either a heavy sleeper, or just doesn’t care that her roommate’s sneaking out in the middle of the night. Either way, both crime scenes were on the edge of the city, taking her farther from her dorm than she would have liked.

It’s the same M.O. both times, and she can see the worrying looks exchanged between the policemen on scene. Both victims were pulled from a garbage disposal. Post-limb churning.

She’s hiding on top a storage container, steering clear of the light. But even from her restricted view, it’s still a grisly sight. Severed limbs and dangling flesh. She watches one of the policemen hurl.

It’s sort of hard to fall asleep after that, so she tosses and turns in her bed until dawn, and the two hours of sleep she grabs in between sends her into a zombie state. Mina should cut her some slack, really.

“- pop quiz today.” She catches the tail end of the professor’s sentence and the consecutive groans that followed.

She hands in the quiz at the end of class, sheet half blank, and makes a note to beg Mina for a good tutor.

 

\--

 

“Hyeyeon-ah, I thought we talked about this.” Mina sighs. She’s written up a proposal this time, with _bullet points_.

“You’re the one who always complains about being too boring,” Hyeyeon argues. “This is a perfectly legitimate hobby okay. And look, it’ll make you more popular with the girls.”

Mina shrieks a little, or high pitched whines, and elbows her in the side. “Okay sorry, boys, whatever.” Hyeyeon rolls her eyes.

“Point is, starting a detective club is a great idea and you need to stop being a hater,” Hyeyeon counters. “Let’s actually make use of all that brain intellect we’re hoarding.”

“And where oh where are you getting that idea from?”

“You were runner-up valedictorian okay, and I’m pretty damn smart,” Hyeyeon retorts, ignoring Mina’s blatant roll of her eyes. “Two of us is probably more competent than half the police force.”

“I thought you were just planning on taking small cases. Like, missing cats and hamsters.” She takes another look at the printout Hyeyeon gave her. “Or at least that’s what bullet number four says.”

“Baby steps. It’s all about working our way up.”

She’s long since realized there’s no point in arguing with Hyeyeon. She’ll always get the last word in, age difference be damned.

Mina sighs. “Let’s go over this sheet again,” and Hyeyeon beams.

 

\--

 

“You’re late,” Hana says without looking up from her desk. “Again.”

“Bad commute, you know,” Nayoung replies dismissively. It’s a lie that Hana doesn’t even bother acknowledging.

“You know, you could just live here. Commute-free and rent free like the rest of us.”

The voice catches her by surprise and she doesn’t have to turn to know it’s Mimi skulking in the corner. No one else can catch her off guard like that.

“I gotta live up to my rep as a tried and true rebel,” Nayoung drones, drawing a hint of a smile from Mimi. “What are you doing here though?”

Hana clears her throat authoritatively, redirecting their attention to her. “It’s about your new mission. Get the door.” She gestures.

Mimi haphazardly looks at the wooden frame before it clicks shut with a glance. She’s always been handy with the party tricks.

“What’s up,” Nayoung inquires. It has to be serious if Hana called Mimi in. Mimi, who ignores the majority of summons unless it’s directly from Hana.

“It’s about a recent…disturbance,” Hana explains. Her eyes flicker quickly to Mimi before resettling on Nayoung. “Someone’s been interfering with some of our big name clients. And they’re not exactly happy about it.”

 _When are they ever,_ she hears Mimi whisper under her breath.

“Either way,” Hana continues, ignoring Mimi’s grumblings. “They want us to take care of it.”

“You mean kill them?” Nayoung interjects. There’s no point in tip-toeing around it, she figures.

“Yes.”

“Why am I here then?” Nayoung asks. “You know I don’t do kill missions.”

“That’s why I’m here, darling,” Mimi chirps in, in that annoying sing-song voice she knows Nayoung hates. “You just need to find them.”

Nayoung squints at her. “So as always, I do all the hard work and then you swoop in for the finish.”

“Yep, that’s about right,” Mimi answers cheerily.

Nayoung shakes her head. Sometimes she finds herself admiring the way Mimi stays so nonchalant about taking a life, until it dawns on her how fucked up that was. _But we’re already fucked up as it is,_ is what Mimi always reminds her..

“Just give me the file,” Nayoung mumbles, and Hana slides a folder towards her.

The folder’s light. There’s not really much information on their mystery person aside from the fact that the “interferences” as Hana penned it, all centralized around a particular college campus.

“So it’s not unreasonable to conclude that our target’s associated with this college somehow. Could be a professor, staff member, or –“

“A student,” Nayoung finishes.

“Yes, precisely.” There’s a new touch of guardedness in Hana’s voice. “Whoever they are, they’re extremely cautious. We have nothing so far amounting to any kind of description. None of the victims have been able to identify a single quality of their assailant.”

“How’d you link the victims together then?” Nayoung frowns.

Hana nods at the folder, “Turn the page,” she directs. “Our target left a single flower at each of the scenes, as a sort of signature.”

“How tacky,” Mimi snorts, and Nayoung has to agree. It's a sort of movie-esque brand of vigilantism.

“They’ve managed to round up more than a few of our clients’ employees, anonymously gifting them to the police each time. Our clients are starting to worry about possible exposure.”

How very Good Samaritan of them, Nayoung thinks. It’s inspiring almost, if Nayoung weren’t working from the opposing realm of morality.

“So how do you want to proceed?” She’s read the brief, and usually a mission outline follows the target profile. But there’s nothing there.

Hana nods to Mimi, who leans back and presses her palm against the glass, instantly fogging it. Nayoung’s fairly sure she also soundproofed the walls in the process.

“This whole operation needs to stay off the books,” Hana explains. “There’s some potential sensitive information involved that we don’t want to come to light. Not for our investors.”

Mimi makes a sort of obnoxious _ka-ching_ noise that they both ignore.

“So am I supposed to just snoop around campus, like what’s the plan?”

Hana hesitates before answering, which sets her on edge. “We want you to be fully assimilated with your surroundings, since you don’t want to potentially spook your target. And we figured it’d be best to give you a cover.”

She could hear Mimi snickering in the background, which has never led to anything good.

“Here’s the full file on your cover.” Hana hands her another folder that she kept conveniently hidden under a stack of papers.

Nayoung pries the folder open. In bold text it reads, _Kim Nayoung, transfer student._

Oh hell no.

 

\--

 

She’s exhausted, her legs functioning solely on autopilot. There’s a mountain of assignments she has to catch up on, not to mention she’s still knee deep in the case of the severed limbs. Prioritization is an impossible decision. It’s either be screwed by her grades or by her guilt.

And on top of that, Mina texted her about some “important business” with Hyeyeon ( _remember that terrible friend I was talking about,_ she says) that apparently warranted her involvement. Sejeong regrets being so agreeable and promising to talk to her about it.

She briefly contemplates how many codes of social acceptance she’d be breaking if she just passed out on the pavement for awhile.

Her thought is cut by a shrill scream. Sejeong whips around towards the source of noise, a mother waving frantically at her child. Her child who was making no effort to move out of the way of an incoming truck.

She’s read those articles before, citing the heroics of people pulling children out of train tracks. It’s reflex, they’d say, in the post interviews. Instinct, duty, whatever.

It’s the same for Sejeong, except she’s also got superhuman speed on her side.

To the naked eye, her movements are indiscernible. There's only a slight rustling sound before she gently places the child on the sidewalk next to where the truck ran its course. She's already escaped halfway down the block by the time the boy's mother realized he was unharmed. 

Sejeong watches the mother scoop him up in a hug, surrounded by bystanders who were scratching their heads at the scene.

Sometimes she thinks about staying and taking the credit, maybe letting some of that gratitude warm her ego, but then she also thinks about her nightmares -- the ones where she’s standing in her mother’s lab, her mother lying unconscious by her feet.

She thinks about the figure in the shadows that she could never identify, the voice that coos _it’ll be over soon._

Her chest stings a bit, a polite reminder not to over-do it with her speed. She must have maxed out on it by accident. She wasn’t going to hold back with a kid’s life on the line.

Her phone rings in her pocket. It’s Mina.

“ _Hey, you got time now?”_

She groans.

 

\--

 

It’s rare that Mimi gives any operation more than a second thought. She’s not the type to get hung up on specifics because after hundreds of files like this, every operation starts to look the same. She’s long since stopped with the questions, a quality that puts her in high standings with the company.

But it’s been awhile since she’s taken one of Hana’s “off the books” jobs, especially one where Hana was so obviously withholding information from the two of them. Not telling Nayoung she gets, because telling that intermittent moral compass too much could potentially sabotage the mission. But she can’t remember the last time Hana withheld something from her.

It bugs her for the entire day and she ends up circling back to Hana’s office.

“Are you really not going to tell me the whole story?” She barges through her door, arms crossed, voice demanding as can be.

Hana looks up from her screen. “What are we talking about.”

“Earlier, your super shady project for Nayoung, or whatever.”

Hana raises an eyebrow. “Since when did you start taking an interest in operational details?”

“Are you really gonna keep stonewalling me?” She challenges. Because she could probably find out, or at least she knows where Hana archives all the really dirty work.

Hana stares at her, half in contemplation, and long enough that it triggers Mimi’s impatience. She’s halfway out the door when Hana answers.

“Wait.” She sighs, the same exasperated sigh reserved for when Mimi makes those inappropriate jokes during board meetings. “Okay okay, I’ll tell you. I wasn’t trying to hide anything. From Nayoung yeah, but not from you.” Hana clarifies. “The information’s not fully vetted yet, so I didn’t want to jump the gun.”

Well now she’s curious. “What is it?”

“It’s not that the victims couldn’t identify their attacker, it’s more like any memory associated with their attacker was removed. Like there are just blanks of time they can’t account for,” Hana explains carefully, pausing to gauge her reaction.

_Oh._

“You think it’s _her,_ ” Mimi remarks quietly.

“Yeah,” Hana answers, tone equally as solemn. “You can see why I didn’t tell Nayoung.”

Mimi nods. It’s been a hell of long time, enough that they’ve given up searching, and now she just pops up conveniently on their radar? There’s no way.

But those memories of the four of them keep trickling into the forefront of her mind. Hana, who always mediated their arguments ( _it’s Nayoung’s turn to be a cop,_ she’d announce, to the two unhappy now-robbers), who held down the fort even when they took the three of them to hell and back.

It’s just Mimi, Nayoung and Hana now. And none of them talk about _her._ Well, those of them who can still remember.

“If it’s her.” It surprises her how raspy and hollow her own voice is. “Are you still going forward with the objective?” It’s the most subtle way of asking, _are you going to kill our friend?_

Sometimes Mimi thinks she’s the only one who remembers Hana in the before, the bright and kindhearted girl who always had a glow on her face. These days, it’s a sort of artificial glow from all that makeup she puts on for press conferences. And somewhere along the line, she trades kindness for confidence.

“I don’t know,” Hana slowly admits.

And it’s the truth of those words that chills her.

 

 


	2. Recognition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is slightly less filler than the last. and hopefully 20x less confusing.

 

She fidgets with the edge of the jacket, pulling it down every time it rides up with a flex of her shoulder. She turns to examine her side profile. Oh, her skirt is too short.

Nayoung stares at her own scowl through the mirror, her expression just one endless reel of loathing.

She blames Hana though. It’s her fault she’s paddling through this back to school mess. What sort of crappy ass mission was this that she needed to go undercover as a college student. She’s never even been to high school as it is.

Nayoung complains, during and after the meeting with Hana and Mimi, and is aggressively ignored by all parties. _You never know until you try it_ , is Mimi’s version of showing support. If college is anything like the k-dramas Nayoung should probably stop watching, she isn’t going to have a good time.

The frown never quite leaves her face as she squirms one last time, and reaches for her backpack. She’s itchy in all the worst places, no thanks to this awful uniform Hana handed her. Not to mention, the idea of holding conversation with normal people was extremely unnerving, a fact she’d rather die than admit.

It’s ironic, that someone with her abilities is terrified of a little casual socializing.

 

\--

 

She was going to continue her investigation. At least that was the plan. But of _course_ she got dragged into this weird little thing Mina and her friend Hyeyeon cooked up.

Technically though, a detective club isn’t even all that far off from what she was already doing. It’s the fact that Mina had already conveyed to Hyeyeon how totally on board her _best friend Sejeong_ would be without actually asking. She tries to protest and Mina just threatens to withhold her Calculus notes and well, that was that.

They already had “a few clients lined up”, was what Hyeyeon had boasted, refusing to disclose the full details of the said clients until their next “official” meeting (we still have to select a headquarters, Hyeyeon says excitedly). Sejeong remembers what Mina had told her, which was just to feign interest and play along. This whole ordeal is mainly to placate Hyeyeon, who according to Mina is simply incapable of sitting on her hands.

And here they are, back for another day of class. This time Sejeong’s actually well rested and not half dead after staying in last night. She figures she should probably save her grades first before she takes on the rest of the world.

“What do you think she’s like?” Mina leans forward and whispers.

“Huh?” Sejeong snaps out of her daze.

“The transfer student,” Mina continues impatiently. “What do you think?”

Right, the mysterious, well-talked about transfer student who was somehow transferring in mid-semester. Sejeong’s heard the rumors but nothing substantive has really been thrown around. And just based on their history of transfer students, her expectations are set well below average.

Sejeong doesn’t have time to shrug back an answer as their professor strolls into the room, which immediately puts an end to all conversation.

“First order of business,” their professor starts. “We have a new student with us today. She’s joining a bit late into the semester so I expect you all to help her catch up to speed,” he says, with that familiar warning tone of his.

Their professor nods toward his left. A girl walks through the door and dips her head in a slight bow.

“Hello, I’m Kim Nayoung.”

And for sure, they’re nothing like Sejeong expected. The flashy rose-colored locks, and the surprisingly dreary expression drawn on an enviably well proportioned frame. The girl is actually despicably attractive.

The professor gestures for her to take a seat, and the girl brushes past Sejeong’s desk on the way to the back. It’s only for the briefest of moments but Sejeong swears she feels a chill flutter down her neck.

But it passes as quickly as it came, and she tries to spend the rest of the class with as much attentive spirit as possible so she doesn’t have to rely on Mina for notes again. But she can’t shake off the feeling that -- and she’s afraid to turn around to confirm -- Kim Nayoung has been staring at her the entire class.

 

\--

 

Turns out, getting a tutor was harder than either of them expected. Mina refused outright, on the account of _Sejeong you know you’re incredibly frustrating to teach right,_ which she couldn’t really argue with. She tends to error on the side of overeagerness, which includes asking too many questions while constantly cutting off the other person. None of Mina’s academically well endowed friends wanted to tutor Sejeong either.

“They’re intimidated by you,” Mina explains.

“What? Me?” Sejeong points to herself in disbelief.

“C’mon Sejeong, this is like basic social hierarchy. You’re the track and field captain.” Mina says. “Honestly us being friends sort of freaks them out.”

Her captain status is the only real achievement she can claim outside of her powers (which she didn’t abuse to get). Everything else about her was rather dismal, not unlike her academics.

“Wait, isn’t that the new girl?” Mina swiftly changes the conversation, and Sejeong turns to look in her direction..

It’s Nayoung, dressed in a loose tank tucked into running shorts, being unceremoniously dragged by a couple of their upperclassmen. Sejeong recognizes one of them. Haebin, she remembers.

Nayoung’s face is just confusion and reluctance and frustration minced together as they shove her in front of Sejeong and Mina.

“She’s here to try out,” Haebin gushes excitedly.

“Aren’t tryouts over?” Mina whispers to Sejeong.

They are, but Sejeong’s also the captain, so executive decisions were her domain.

“Sure,” Sejeong agrees, to everyone’s surprise. “Let’s see what she’s got.”

Haebin cheers, and does this awfully tacky fist bump that makes Sejeong laugh. Nayoung’s sort of staring at her now, which unnerves her.

“What’s your specialty?” Sejeong asks.

Nayoung pauses and seems short of an answer until Haebin elbows her and mutters something under her breath.

“Running,” she answers, straight-faced.

“Okay.” Sejeong tries not to break into a smile. “400? 800? 1600? What’s your poison?”

“Uh... 400.” Nayoung replies, with slightly less hesitation than the time before.

“Okay. Let’s have at it.”

Sejeong heads for the sidelines as Nayoung slowly walks onto the track. Mina grabs the stopwatch around her neck as Nayoung readies herself. She signals to her when it’s time and Nayoung nods in confirmation.

Within milliseconds of Mina blowing the whistle, Nayoung’s already off. It’s an impressive and incredibly reactive start. And just from eyeballing the pace with which she was making the turn in the track, Sejeong knew her time would be equally as impressive.

When Nayoung finishes, understandably out of breath, Mina squints at her stopwatch and shakes her head.

“Sejeong,” she says. “She beat your best time by 1.2 seconds.”

Everyone’s looking at Nayoung now, who’s still catching her breath amidst intermittent coughing. Just looking at how hard she tried, Sejeong could feel the competitive spirit in her roaring to be let out.

She doesn’t get a chance though, because Nayoung interrupts them from their collective disbelief.

“Forget it,” she says. “Look, this whole try-out thing was a bad idea, and _not my idea_ ,” she looks directly at Haebin as she says this, who sighs. “I never wanted to intrude in the first place so let’s just forget about all of this.”

She grabs her bag from the sidelines and starts heading towards the exit when Sejeong just feels her feet moving all on their own. And lips also.

“Wait!”

Nayoung stops, just like she asked. And yet Sejeong’s the one who’s taken back.

“Just…..think on it will you?” Sejeong asks her lamely. “Please. Just mull it over and give me your answer tomorrow. We’d be lucky to have someone like you.”

She sees Nayoung’s eyes widen a slight second at her compliment, and she prays it’s some kind of sign that she’ll say yes.

“Okay,” Nayoung replies, and Sejeong breathes a sigh of relief. “I’ll let you know tomorrow, but I’m not making any promises.”

“I know,” Sejeong acknowledges. “It’s just been awhile since I’ve had any serious competition. I’d really like this to work out.”

She’s not lying about the competition, but there’s also an element of intrigue at play here. The speed she can accept, but the almost inhumanely fast reaction time is really gnawing at her. Or maybe she’s just thinking too much into things. Maybe this is what natural talent looks like.

But Nayoung gives a wry smile, stretching her face in a way that makes her look years younger. Sejeong’s suddenly made aware exactly how striking Nayoung’s cheeks are.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Sejeong.” Nayoung waves awkwardly as she turns to leave.

Sejeong wants to stay, to watch the bounce of Nayoung’s hair as she jogs her way to the exit, but Mina yells for her to get back to practice.

It strikes her moments later, that she never gave Nayoung her name.

 

\--

 

Mimi groans.

She’s starting to regret those last two drinks. Her vision’s starting to deteriorate and she has maybe all of thirty minutes to sober up before her target made it back home.

Hana had been warning her the whole night with _are you sure you’re okay to drink this much before a mission._ Mimi just waved her off dismissively while calling for the bartender.

It’s not the first time she’s steeped herself in alcohol before a kill mission, and it certainly won’t be the last.

But today was different. She needed the liquid courage to ask Hana the question they’ve both been avoiding.

“If Nayoung’s target is _her_ ,” Mimi can see Hana freeze from the corner of her eye. “If it’s really her, are you going to ask me to do it?”

She asks, because it would be nice to have some heads up, but also because she wants to know how much of the Hana she knew was still left in her. Because sometimes there are glimpses of the old Hana that reminds her of the days when it was still the four of them. Nayoung, Hana, Mimi, and Sejeong. Back then, she thought the four of them would be eternal.

Except now, Mimi’s asking Hana in the most serious fashion, if she was going to be tasked with killing their friend. And she knows she’s lost so much of Hana from the time it takes her to answer.

“Would you do it if I asked you to?”

Yes. She owes Sejeong her loyalty as a friend, but she owes Hana her life.

But Mimi doesn’t say it, just rests her face on one hand and looks Hana in the eye so she knows. Hana gives her glass of wine a lazy twirl and sighs.

“We’ll cross that bridge when the time comes. Don’t worry, we’ll hire an outside contractor if it really comes down to it.”

And with that, Mimi spends the rest of the night marinating her brain in alcohol and the relief that she’d be exempted from at least one despicable act. Hana’s rather nonchalant decision on the matter of Sejeong’s life was a topic for another time. Right now, Mimi’s just trying not to lose her balance and fall off the roof she’s hiding on.

She hears the sound of someone pulling into the driveway. Must be the target. Time to get off her quasi-drunk ass and do her job.

Mimi only vaguely recalls the target’s profile. Something about the guy being a key witness in a white collar case. They tried to pay him off, but Mr. Upstanding Citizen here wouldn’t take the bribe.

She waits quietly, hidden behind the chimney top, as the man walks from his car to his door. As soon as she hears the sound of his keys turn in the lock, Mimi presses two fingers against the roof. The slate surface immediately turns transparent, allowing her vision within the house. She watches as the man drops his keys on the dining room table and promptly plops down on the couch. This was it.

Mimi repositions until she’s right above her target and presses her full palm on the roof’s surface this time. Almost instantly, the area around her palm disintegrates, leaving a crater with a radius of nearly two feet. It startles the man sitting underneath, who yells in panic as he looks up.

In a single fluid movement, Mimi lands in front of the terrified man and places a hand on his chest. Within seconds, the area around her hand starts to frost, and just moments later, the man drops dead on his carpet.

Mimi sighs. She hates the cleanup.

 

\--

 

When Nayoung reports back to Hana on her first day, she’d expected more prodding. She could guess, from the distracting tone of the conversation, that Mimi was on one of _those_ missions again. Hana would never admit it but Nayoung can hear the worrying edge in her voice everytime Mimi’s assigned to a kill mission.

Nayoung doesn’t bother to reassure her that Mimi can more than handle herself. Hana has other reasons for worrying, she knows.

But Nayoung has worries of her own apparently, one that somehow had nothing to do with her current mission. Like giving an answer to a surprisingly tenacious track and field captain..

Nayoung didn’t plan on caving to Haebin’s insistence for her to try out for track because _look at those legs,_ and she wouldn’t have (especially to some girl she just met), if it wasn’t for the fact that the same girl in her earlier class was standing right in front of her.

She’d felt something, walking past the girl in class, which made her reactively pause everything for a moment. Nayoung doubled back and stopped at the girl’s seat, while everything around her was frozen in time.

There was a familiarity to her face, the way her hair was parted to one side, and the frozen, hint of a smile on her face. Nayoung grazed her cheek with the tip of her thumb before she realized what she was doing and hastily retracted her hand.

She nearly tripped on the way to her seat, while hitting unpause on the clock.

Sejeong, she overheard someone say later.

And it’s all of that, that forces Nayoung to actually try her best during the tryout. She’s never been interested in impressing anyone before, but there’s something about Sejeong that maybe brings out the worst in her.

Because Nayoung cheats a bit, actually. Slows down time by 150% as she runs. It’s still a heavy struggle considering she’s never really been athletic, despite Haebin’s comment about her long legs.

It’s a little humiliating to say the least, when Sejeong runs up to her with genuine excitement in her voice, asking Nayoung to join her team. A part of her feels like a fraud, but the other is filled with the urge to say yes.

And it’s times like this Nayoung wishes she could sleep, and that she doesn’t have an entire night ahead of her to contemplate which half of her would win out.

 

 


End file.
